The Lamb and the Knife
by Patricia de Lioncourt
Summary: We're not going to make it, Dawn. Not both of us. But one of us will make it… and I'm going to make sure it's you.


**Spoilers:** Post S7, with elements borrowed from the comics, but nothing terribly spoiler-y.  
**Warnings:** Character death, torture implications  
**Prompt:** 012\. Any Fandom - Any Character(s) - Voluntary zombification.**  
Disclaimer: **I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any related characters or content. The title is inspired by Florence + the Machine's Song, "Rabbit Heart (Raise it Up)."**  
A/N: **This was written for a Livejournal Comm Zombi-fic-ation's bonus round. The prompt I claimed can be seen above. Hope you all enjoy!

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**The Lamb and the Knife**

They were locked away, like dogs being kept by a vicious owner. The cages were a bit thicker in their bars, and big enough for Dawn and Xander to sit a little hunched over in, Xander hunched over more than Dawn. They had been on patrol, with some of the trainee slayers, some of the fresher bunch that Willow had found and brought to their castle in Scotland. Through Willow's power of teleportation, she had sent them back to the States, in some random town to patrol some of the town's random cemeteries. Standard procedure, and Xander and Dawn had both decided to take some much needed away-from-the-scoobies time that their relationship required now and again. But things had gone wrong, fast. So fast, in fact, that neither Xander nor Dawn could remember exactly what happened.

Their heads hurt, and they were in a basement sort of place. The floors were of solid, cold concrete, and there was a leak or several in the pipes above them, because several rust-colored puddles littered the floor. They were not the only two cages in the basement. The other slayers were there, but they were kept unconscious, and the thought chilled Dawn to the bone. That meant that whoever had got them, had gotten other slayers before. They knew enough to know that the cages, no matter how strong, would bend like a rubber band if a slayer got ahold of them. Sure, they had had slayers go missing, hazard of the job unfortunately. But Dawn was now seriously wondering how many of the girls—ages varying from too young to still too young—had ended up here. Wherever here was.

Some of the people in this basement, and there were too many—each in their own individual cage—were not slayers, and they were awake. And they were in bad condition. Some jabbered constantly, just speaking scary nonsense about terrible things that were going to happen to all of them. While others were too quiet, like their voices were just gone.

Xander saw Dawn eyeing all of them, taking in every cut and bruise and crusted bit of blood. He reached through the bars as far as he could, just barely able to reach her fingertips with his whens he reached back for him. He smiled, shaking his head.

"Don't worry. We have trackers," he whispered. "Your sister and Will aren't stupid. Slayers go missing, and they start thinking of ways to find them. And the Head Slayer's sister going missing? Forget about it. We're as good as found."

"How did we get here?" she asked. "All I remember is a boom, and then I woke up in here. That girl over there, she was screaming. That's what woke me up."

Dawn nodded toward a girl with blonde hair that was long and dirty. She was rocking back and forth now, a long cut going up her bare arm from her elbow to shoulder still bleeding despite the rough stitch holding the skin together. Xander shook his head.

"I don't know. But don't worry. We're Buffy-trained. We'll kick the ass of anybody who tries anything funny."

But Dawn had a stone settling in her stomach, a big one. There were empty cages, sporadically placed amongst the filled ones. And they didn't look brand new. They had had people in them, and the former Key couldn't help but wonder what had happened to those people. One that was close enough to see in the dimly light of the single bulb dangling from the center of the basement's ceiling appeared to have claw marks on the cement… but not sharp claws… like… human clawing. Like whoever had been in that one, had been dragged from it, literally. Dawn hugged her knees.

"I hate this. I hate being kidnapped," she whispered.

"Don't think anyone loves it, Dawnie," Xander responded just as a guy, looking no older than eighteen, slammed into the side of his cage closest to the one Xander was in.

Both Dawn and Xander jumped, turning toward the guy, whose head looked like it sported a pretty precise gash across half of his forehead, his spiked red hair showing the dirt gathered over time as well as the blonde girl's had. He wrapped pale, freckled hands around his bars, pressing his face against them, as if he willed himself to past through.

"We're gonna die. He's killing us," he said.

Xander, ever the comic, nodded in greeting. "Hi. I'm Xander. And you were saying?"

The guy continued as if Xander had said nothing. His gray eyes were wide, wider than what should have been possible on a person, and his breaths were uneven, like he was running, though he was sitting still, still gripping the bars.

"He'll yank you out of the cage. He'll strap you down, and tell you that it'll hurt. A lot. He's dressed like a doctor, but doctor's lie. They say it won't hurt, but he's honest. He tells you all about the pain. And he's right, and it hurts. He's doing things. Making us, me, different. I'm not the same. He's taking our souls."

Calmly, eerily so, the guy let go of the bars and sat back somewhere in a shadowed corner of his cage. Dawn and Xander exchanged a look for a moment before they heard a door open somewhere off in a distance that they couldn't see. Without a word, both of them scurried to the back of their cages, each hugging the side closest to the other one's cage.

A man came into the light. He wore a long white coat, just like a doctor, but it was stained. Spots gone a certain color of brown that let them both know that they were once red, when fresh. Tight black gloves adorned his hands, and his face is like tanned leather, a little worn and weathered. His salt-and-pepper gray hair was cut close to his head, but not ridiculously so. Actually, he looked rather professional. And that scared Dawn more than she could rationally explain.

He pointed to her, grinning. "You next, I think. Let's see how you do."

Her heart stopped, just for a second, and Xander lost it in the next moment, when the man began opening Dawn's cage.

"Leave her alone!" Xander raged as the man began to drag her out of the cage.

"No!" she screamed, and the smell of chemicals on the man's hand made her mentally start calling him The Scientist, because it reminded her of her chemistry classroom.

"Now, now. The less you fight, the less it hurts. Or so I've been told," he said, gripping her shoulders like a vice.

But Dawn was Buffy's sister, and she had learned to defend herself. She threw her leg out behind her, stomping on the Scientist's foot as hard as she could. He growled, and Xander started screaming at her to run for help. She hesitated, unwilling to leave her boyfriend behind. It didn't seem like a very Scoobie-thing to do. And that one second she hesitated was one second too long. She whirled, headed in the direction she had heard the Scientist emerging from, when she felt it. A sharp stabbing, followed immediately by pressure in her calf. Just like a shot. She cried out, falling to the dirty floor. And then her world went black.

#

Dawn wasn't sure how long it had been since the Scientist had sedated her. But when she came to, she was strapped to a gurney that was tilted mostly upward. The Scientist stood over her, grinning, and she could see the gleam of countless instruments—and no, not the musical kind—on the table beside her in the bright florescent lighting, so different from the light in the basement.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"A man with a dream," he said, rolling the tray closer.

A large battery, looking sort of like a car battery with attached jumper cables, rested amongst the silvery tools. Dawn fought the urge to gulp.

"And what's that dream?" she asked.

Maybe, just maybe, if she could keep him talking, she could buy enough time to think of a way out of this. The Scientist tilted his head to the side, thoughtful.

"None of them have ever asked me that before."

"T-them?"

"Yeah, my experiments… well, my _failed_ experiments."

He nodded to a spot behind Dawn, and she managed to lift her head and wiggle enough against her restraints to catch a horrifying glance behind her. And she wished she hadn't. Locked away in a glass area of the room were people… but they weren't _people_ anymore. They skin was decaying on their body, muscle and bone and black, sludge-like blood visible all over their body. One had been a woman, her clothes ripped and torn like she had been in a fight, parts of her head bald where the hair had been clearly ripped out. There were at least four of them, and one was sitting down on the floor, one that had been a guy, and he was gnawing on the dead woman's leg… and she didn't notice. Because, save for the one gnawing, the other three were peering out of the glass, groaning. Their eyes were as dead as their bodies, only a flicker of want in them.

"Oh God," Dawn muttered.

"I know, I know. A little cliché, isn't it? A boy wants an army of zombies at his command. And it is, clichéd, I mean. But I'm smart. Smarter than anybody I've ever met. I can make it happen. I can make it where they are under my utter control. They only attack when I wish it. Except… well, my first four attempts over there are a little less. Too old school, with the shuffling and groaning. But I've figured it out since then. It's about endurance."

Dawn's eyes were riveted to the Scientist as he turned, picking up the jumper cables. He touched them together, sending sparks arcing over her body and soliciting a few groans from the caged zombies.

"So, Miss… let's see how much you can handle," he said.

#

Buffy was coming for them. Xander kept assuring Dawn of that. The Scientist must just have the place cloaked somehow. But Dawn was losing hope. She had no idea how long she and Xander had been there, but they had both gone in and out of the lab—as they called it—several times. Now they had their own scars, their own bruises, their own almost-fresh cuts and slap-job stitches. Some of the people in the other cages, including a couple of the slayers, had gone in and not come back.

"I don't know how much longer we'll last," she said.

"We have to try, Dawnie. Swear to me that you'll keep fighting," he replied.

She nodded, not caring if he could see her or not. She heard the door opening, heard the Scientist's footsteps approaching. It was Xander's turn, and she only cringed when he was dragged from his cage this time.

#

Days. It had to be days since they had been taken. More were gone, and replacements had been made. Dawn could barely move, her whole body hurt. And Xander only occasionally mentioned Buffy saving them now, instead of every other second. They had both been silent for a while, but then, Xander rolled over to face her.

"I've been thinking," he said.

Dawn made some sort of noise, letting him know that she was listening. He carried on.

"We've been here the longest. Almost everyone else is different, except for a couple of our slayers. They've either died from the experiments, or…"

Dawn cringed, her eyes sliding closed as she fought to control the sickness growing inside of her.

"Or they're zombies. Either way, I still know that Buffy's coming. I don't doubt that. What I do doubt… is time. I don't think we've got enough time."

"What are you talking about?" Dawn muttered.

"We're not going to make it, Dawnie. Not both of us. But one of us _will_ make it… and I'm going to make sure it's you."

The door opened, and like a shock of lightning, Dawn knew what Xander planned. It was Dawn's turn to go, but Xander wasn't going to have it that way.

"No," she begged him. "Don't. Don't do this!"

The Scientist reached them, grinning as he eyed Dawn.

"It's time," he said with satisfaction. "I've got a good feeling about this."

"Take me instead!" Xander yelled.

The Scientist turned, brow arched. "Excuse me?"

"I want to go first. I volunteer. Test your new method, or whatever, on me. Her… she's special, trust me. You want to get it right with her. But me? I'm just really good fodder."

"Xander, shut up!"

Dawn threw herself against the door of her cage, slamming her weight into it as the Scientist nodded.

"Have it your way. Never had a volunteer before. Might be nice to see if it has a different effect."

"Xander! No! Don't do this! Take me! _Me_!"

But the Scientist had already unlocked Xander's cage and had him half-walking, half-dragging away.

"Love ya," Xander said with a sad smile just before they disappeared into the shadows.

"No!" Dawn screamed over and over. "No! No! No!"

It didn't seem to take long before she could swear she could hear Xander screaming, although she didn't hear the screams of anyone before. She fell back to the back of her cage, tears streaming down before she realized it. And she was still repeating "no" as she rocked.

#

She hadn't slept. Rather, Dawn had just blacked out. When she awoke, she was aware of two figures standing over her cage. The Scientist was all smiles.

"Success," he muttered.

And then Dawn took in the second figure. His skin wasn't as rotted as the others, but he was still covered in blood, including his bared teeth. Half of his hair was gone too, only this had happened by shaving, and a giant suture covered half his forehead. But, unmistakable, this was Xander that stood over her.

"Xander?" she whispered.

Her only response was a groan. She gasped, her eyes narrowing into a glare as she directed them toward the Scientist.

"You son of a bitch. What did you do?"

"You'll see. You," the Scientist said, directing the order at Zombie Xander, "get the girl. And follow me."

The Scientist did the honors of unlocking Dawn's cage as Zombie Xander pulled her out and to her feet. She tried to talk to him, beg him to just be him again. But instead, he gripped her tighter than a vice, big globs of drool running down his chin.

"Control yourself," the Scientist ordered. "You'll get a reward if you're good."

Zombie Xander grunted, and the three of them turned toward the door only to have it burst open suddenly. Seconds later, the sole of a shoe was the first thing anyone saw as it connected with the Scientist's face. And in the next moment, Dawn saw who it was attached to.

"Buffy!"

The Scientist groaned, rolling over clutching his face. Dawn could tell he was trying to spew out an order for Zombie Xander, but Buffy brought another blow down on his face, rendering him unconscious. Zombie Xander roared, pulling Dawn closer.

"It's me, Xander. It's me. Don't. Don't, okay? You know me," Dawn pleaded as Buffy finally took in the scene with wide eyes.

"Oh God," she said just as Willow, muttering the same sentiment in the feminine form, came into view.

The witch put a hand over her mouth, stifling a sob. But Buffy held out her hands, the universal sign of "I won't hurt you."

Zombie Xander was pulling Dawn backward, still holding her close. She could feel the air being forced out of his mouth—not in a way that Dawn would call breathing—on her neck.

"Xander, please! That's Dawn. You remember Dawn, right?" Buffy tried to reason.

"What happened?" Willow asked.

"He volunteered," Dawn cried. Then, ignoring her sister and her friend, she turned her head as far around as she could, trying to address her zombie boyfriend. "You did this to save me. To buy me time. Please, please remember. Maybe we can help you. Maybe we can save you. Please, don't become this. Don't be this. Please!"

Suddenly, Zombie Xander stopped moving. He stood there for a moment, just gripping Dawn. And, without warning, he whirled her about. He seemed to eye her as she tried her best not to cringe away. Then, amazingly, he let go. Willow muttered some magic words, and a clear box appeared around him, holding him imprisoned.

He roared, beating his fist against the prison, and Dawn cried.

"Fix him," she begged Willow. "Please."

"I-I don't know if I can."

Buffy wrapped her arms around her sister. "We'll try. But first, let's take care of the rest and get him home."

#

The Scientist, as it had turned out, had taken most of Xander's brain. At least, all the parts that had made him _him_. There was a certain amount of mysticism used, but it wasn't the key part. No, the removal of brain had been key to the perfect, obedient zombie. And Willow couldn't regrow brain. Not the same brain. She could regrow _a_ brain, but it wouldn't be Xander. Not the Xander they had all known and loved. So, in a private ceremony consisting of only the core Scoobie gang, they knew they had to end this non-existence of his. They placed his glass enclosure in the courtyard. They all took turns, saying their goodbyes, with Dawn leaving hers for last.

She placed her hands on the glass, tears rolling.

"I love you. You gave your life and more for me. I can never thank you enough for that… and I would've done the same. Was ready to. But you beat me to it. And I'm sorry for that. So sorry."

Zombie Xander raised a hand and instead of beating it against the glass, rested it there, just on the other side of Dawn's. She sobbed, and Buffy gently pulled her away. Willow thought it might be best if they all turned, put their backs to the soon-to-be painful scene. They all did but her, and she snapped her fingers. A roaring fire engulfed the Zombie Xander, and in the next moment, only ash remained.

"He loved you," Buffy reassured her. "Loved you like no other guy ever had."

"I know."

There was so much more she wanted to say. So much more that she felt she needed to say. But Dawn couldn't find the words. Instead, her body feeling not her own, she only left the courtyard.


End file.
